L'Oeuf de Truie
by nuit1962
Summary: Fred Abberline didn't OD, thankfully, he was seconded to Paris amidst the colour and debauchery of the Moulin Rouge, where he meets Lily Dubois and searches for a mysterious disappearing faberge egg
1. Chapter 1

L'oeuf de truie

Lily Dubois sighed as she leaned back against the plush red of the long sofas that made up the backstage of the Moulin Rouge. Behind her stretched the dressing rooms where women were busy scraping greasepaint from their faces and hanging up the sorts of creations that made the dressmakers of Paris very happy and considerably richer. In this dim light the sumptuousness of the furnishings and the gilt paint would have you believe that they were feted actresses performing lofty works, the truth was something else and the ache in Lily's feet came back to remind her- Chahuteuses (the unruly girls), performing the Can Can every night to a house full of nobility and French Society that reveled in the mixture of loose morality and the flexibility of their legs.

"Aimee..." her hand stretched out to catch that of a young woman passing by, a smile passing over her lips "you did well tonight- they are already calling you 'Le Bourgeon Blanc' (the white bud) did you hear the Comte? You have an admirer of the best sort! One with money and a wife already"

The young woman didn't resist the pull to sit down, a mix of pride and worry on her face.  
"What should I do?"

Lily smiled back "Nothing Cherie- just make sure that you face his way when you dance and when you are in his box keep the path to the door clear in your mind. But here- you can untie my boots, I am tired." Thin white fingers untied the black strings so that Lily could finally kick them off and with a heavy, ecstatic sigh of pure bliss, her hands slid down the black stocking to send them into a heap on the floor.

Lily had been slow to redress after the end of the show, and sat watching the others bustle back into the hall to find their regulars or a face to flirt with- some man who was feeling the flush of the Can Can in his breeches and could be parted with francs with which to buy drinks. Maybe she needed a break- to get out of this place just for one night, away from the smell of money and sex, Lord knows she didn't want to see any of those faces who looked up expectantly when she entered the Hall, beckoning for her to go laugh and sparkle at their table, hoping for a touch or a kiss.

Gabrielle, she would find Gabrielle. Her old partner in crime- you couldn't usually tell which one of them had suggested the bad...or good idea, depending on your point of view that they were throwing themselves into and Lily was suddenly pulling on the black lace dress with vigour. She smiled at herself in the mirror, gathering her hair back up and pinching her cheeks for some colour. Gabrielle would be up for a drink or three in The Red Parrot, a favourite of 'their' kind round the back of the Montmartre, well in truth there too, men would be hoping for a touch or a kiss, and sometimes taking it anyhow, but at least there you didn't have to smile and pretend that you wanted them to.

She only really saw a flash of those golden curls disappear out the door, well that and the scent of something different, maybe a different cigarette or sandalwood or soap- Gabrielle had gone already, a call of "See you there Lily!" back over her shoulder. Lily wouldn't dream of complaining, from what she had heard already Gabrielle's new 'young man' had been the talk of the dressing rooms- an artist they said- though his occupation took up less time than the conversation about the shape of his mouth. Now Aimee was about to go too, Lily could tell by the sickly grin on the face of Monsieur Mauriac as he spoke in hushed voices to the manservant of the Comte de Richelieu and she sighed just a little. The Comte was a recent arrival in Paris, he had, as far as anyone could see, enough money to buy ever girl in the place, but possessed all the grace of a snake. He was an ill match for Aimee. That girl was just too young, too naive and too sweet for a man like that and Lily took a last look, if she went with her instincts she would have marched up to pull that young woman back, but instead what she did was close her eyes for a second, who was she to deny her friend access to that sort of money. She needed a drink.

The Paris mist had curled Lily's hair more than she would have liked, and by the time she reached the Red Parrot, the wet sheen of night on her skin had chilled her so much that her shivers had interrupted her precarious good humour "a few glasses of red wine is what I need", sometimes it helped to talk to yourself, especially when no one else quite made sense. A welcome blast of warm air surrounded her as she entered the bar and Lily smiled at the man in front of her "Allo Picard...Tu as une table pour moi?" It was an unnecessary question- the doorman always had a table for Lily, though in truth he would swap it for the chaise longue in his room in a heartbeat. With his hand on her back he led her across the room, the pressure suddenly increased as she stopped suddenly, a smile that lit up the bar "Gabrielle!" The happiness was both stolen and increased as she took in the man those thigh glanced that of her friend, his lips still raw with the taste of a kiss, his tongue not quite retreated

"I am interrupting Cherie" Lily winked as she took a glance at the fall of this beautiful man's breeches "but I will stay all the same" a kiss on both cheeks and then her hand extended to find the long fingers of the man who introduced himself as Michel Demains. Lily was unaccustomed to the notion of 'mine', that beauty was something to be shared was a firm conviction of hers, and neither Michel nor Gabrielle had a choice but to agree as she nestled herself into the very small space beside them. "Ah! Bonsoir at last mes amis"

In the neighbouring district- the Pigalle- Inspector Fred Abberline stared into the orange glow of a candle, his thoughts you would have imagined deep in the details of a case, one of the many crimes of passion and money that seemed to find their way onto illegibly scrawled crime reports, and onto his desk- tales of sickly husbands dredged from the waters of the Seine, their wives entangled with lovers and hopes, accusations of blackmail and corruption that Abberline knew lead him into territory that would hasten the end of his already tenuous career. It had occurred to him many times that may have been the reason they were added to the pile, but since acting on that would require the sort of meetings to his superiors that he always sought to avoid, involving a litany of the myriad of cases still outstanding and whilst they were on the subject, how exactly did Abberline account for the hours that was out of the office, it was best to simply shuffle them further down amoungst the more grisly slices of Parisian life. He hadn't been in Paris long, seconded by Scotland Yard after what was euphemistically described as 'the unfortunate incident'. Unfortunate at least for the women who made up the names of the victims of the Ripper at least he thought, nobody else seemed to have suffered unduly as the case slipped out of facts and into legend. He had however been here long enough to know that Paris smelt a lot like London when you got down to the bottom of it.

Well that's what you would have imagined, but it would be far from the truth. In fact Fred Abberline had not long awoken from the daze of an opium dream in which the red and gold pillows supporting him floated his body so far of the ground he may well have actually been in China. He hadn't quite yet come to and the candle wax was holding considerable fascination for him- the way that it dripped and hardened in one silken movement. Sounds were almost registering, although the meaning of them he couldn't as yet fathom. It was going to be another long night.

He was beginning to recognise sounds and their sources when a sharp voice had pierced the fuzziness  
"Inspector...Inspector, you are needed, something has come up."

A grunt and the slight tightening of facial muscles hadn't quite been the response the young police sergeant was expecting.

"Inspector Abberline, one of the Faberge Eggs has gone missing."

The news was greeted with less interest than if the breakfast eggs had been discovered to have hatched and scampered off around the yard, really Fred Abberline had little time for trinkets. But the insistence of the young officer finally brought him round.

"You are to lead the investigation Inspector; it is of national importance that the Egg is recovered. France will be shamed. The Russian Czar entrusted monsieur le Comte de Richelieu with it and it has gone!"

Fred shook his head and rubbed his eyes, maybe that would make things clearer, not least why on earth he would be entrusted with such an investigation, but it didn't quite- in fact the movement of his head was decidedly not wise, "Just give me the facts...when...where...and if you would…who"

The young constable beamed and pulled out a notebook to read the crime report "on the evening of the 13th October, the Comte de Richelieu reported the theft of a Faberge Egg from his home in the Champs Elysees, a young woman who had been visiting the Comte after begging for a charitable donation which the Comte had felt himself unable to refuse, is suspected to have made off with the Egg worth 3 thousand francs"

Fred opened one eye "and her name?"

"Aimee Blanchard, a dancer in the Moulin Rouge, she is known as..."

"I know that." Inspector Abberline closed that eye again and took a long breath.


	2. Chapter 2

Lily rarely stirred herself before noon, well really what was the point? The morning air was so cold and, with or without a warm body under the covers with her, it was better to dream of the soft melting pastries that one might have in ones mouth than to face the reality of actually going to get them. Lily was good at fantasy, and this particular morning she really hadn't wanted to see the grey pretender to the sun that knocked grimly on her Paris smoked window, so instead, she had refused to open her eyes until the hubbub on the stairs outside could no longer be ignored. In truth though she was worried, even after she had returned to the boarding house, which was just before the first bird made a valiant attempt to signal the dawn, there had been no sign of Aimee. Lily had even brought home an extra quart of wine especially for her from The Red Parrot, well she would have needed something to take the taste away, but it stood still but half drunk on the dresser, their familiar warm cuddles missing for once. She reluctantly pulled herself up out of the sheets, a shiver through her bones at the temperature of the water in a blue porcelain bowl on the dresser, and sighed at the hair which seemed determined to make a fool of her.

No one had seen Aimee, none of the other girls nor Madame downstairs, but despite her growing disquiet Lily could do nothing but get through her day, resolving that should Aimee not appear for tonight's show then the Comte would feel the sharp of her own tongue, whether his pale wife was sitting at his side or not.

At last the evening came and Lily's second home, the backstage of the Moulin Rouge, bustled with the familiar sights and sounds of too many women in one place, a cacophony of sound and colour that made her smile. No matter how tired she was, the minutes before curtain up always had her heart beating fast, a slightly sick feeling in her stomach, but a deep smile in her very being. She continued to brush her cheeks with powder watching her own face change in the mirror into something else far away from the drabness of the street. These, it was true, hardly being the discerning audience of the opera, but all the same, this Can Can was about 'being' and at least for those moments they were flashing their skirts and their boots, heads held high and proud of being women, it was an expression of that spirit that all else was conspiring to squash.

She pouted her lips and ran a finger of red all over them, parting her lips to see the contrast of rouge and white. Stepping back from the mirror a little she held her head at an angle- pulling some curls down to fall on her neck- Lily was never one to pin her hair too tight. Ah they were never going to be 'Ladies' anyhow, and from what she had seen on the sour unhappy faces in the audience- the wives of the men who came to feel themselves, Lily laughed at her own thought process, these men who came to feel themselves rise at the sight of women dancing, well their wives might have all manner of sparkle round their necks, but none inside their hearts. With a sigh, she tugged on the laces of her boots and pulled her dress a little further down her pale shoulders, she would dance for herself if for nothing else.

With that Lily stepped out into the hallway that led to the heavy curtains that enveloped the stage. The first dance of the night and a favourite with the audience of men was the Quadrille, threads of an older dance that Lily had made her own. She reveled in the opportunity to both tease and show the skill she was renowned for, bending backwards to offer more of her curves, but all the time the dance encased in a square of four -still as yet contained in formality but with a hint of the unruliness to come. Tonight she threw herself into it, so that the hint was more of a promise, the swirl and brush of her skirts just a little bit more daring and her chin a little higher while the loud clamour of the trombones and cornets filled the hall. By the end there was only a cloud of white lace with just the taste of pink skin as her petticoats seemed to demand to keep moving, despite the stamp of her heels, and Lily's curls having a revolution all of their own. Her breasts heaving with her panting breath, there was just a trace of moisture on her skin and Lily bowed with a wink just once before running off stage.

The wide smile fell from her face her as she ran back behind the curtain to see Monsieur de Mauriac, the House Manager, pointing in her direction, his as yet indistinct words directed into the face of a man she couldn't yet see since he was behind her, apparently he had enjoyed an unsurpassed view of the Quadrille from close quarters, indeed he very nearly made up a quintet.  
"This is Lily, Monsieur Inspector, but before you ask your questions I have a few of my own- or maybe they are the same, in which case I will save you the trouble of no doubt hearing those excuses twice, and you can take your notebook elsewhere"

Lily could feel the hairs on the back of her neck begin to prickle, raising in the rapidly cooling air around her, a copper- that was all she needed, and she just glanced behind her for a second before turning back to Monsieur de Mauriac, meaning to gauge the method by which she might secure a painless exit from whatever it was that he wanted. Lily had honed that particular talent- how to judge what a man wanted in a breath and she was seldom wrong.

Well she intended to glance for a second, but it might have been two or three. The man behind her was looking directly at her, anticipating where her face was going to be before she turned her head, as if meant to catch her. She caught the slightest flicker of his eyes down to where the sweat was now wet in her cleavage and sighed, "Ah Oui" she had it now, as if it were to be any different.

"Lily- the Inspector here wants to know where it is that we might find Aimee Blanchard, whatever his reasons, which he has failed to divulge" the Monsieur's contempt was barely below the surface of his sneer "they will of course be of less import than the knowledge that she will no longer have a job if she fails to appear within the very next hour". If the Monsieur had picked a worse way to challenge all that Lily held dear he probably would have been in his grave, a torrent of expletives and about how they could sack her too, and she would see what the organisation for women dancers would say about it, though in truth she wasn't even sure there was one, and how she, Lily, would refuse to dance if they even thought of stopping Aimee's' wages never mind sacking her, and that if any one new where she was it would be that snake the Comte de Richelieu who would be answering to her any minute now, There was a stunned silence for a moment before the Inspector stepped up beside her, his hand resting on the bare skin of her arm

"It seems to me Monsieur, that we both have our answer" a nod to Lily "and a very full and colourful one, wouldn't you say? Now if I may indulge your kindness I will need to question Lily for myself." It didn't seem to be a request. Lily was determined not to let those angry trickles at the corners of her eyes descend her cheeks and turned round to face him. There was to be no end it seemed- caught between the sort of manager who only cared that the chorus line was full and now a copper, Jesus, what she wouldn't give to be almost anywhere else.

"Is there somewhere we can go?"

Lily took a long slow look at the policeman in front of her, who, with his hair falling across dark brown eyes and almost touching his cheek, had the look of a slightly ill groomed dog, pedigree and mongrel all mixed up, and one that had been allowed to run free. No amount of smart collars or ties could make it otherwise. "To talk?" Oh and a smile, when he did, even when it was just in the purse of those lips, that made her want to ruffle his hair some more. Just before she remembered who this curious man with the even more curious French accent was "If you insist Inspector." With a nod he followed her down the lamplight corridors to the sewing room where at the very least there was quiet.

Once seated on an enormous roll of heavy red silk Lily looked expectantly at his face soft in the dark "If you want me to tell you where she is, I can only say that she left with the Comte last night- that's common knowledge, any one of the girls will tell you that, I have not seen her since."

"But you do know her well? The Madame told me she is often to be found in your company in the early hours" If he was trying to unseat Lily it wasn't going to work, he felt stiffen from where he sat on blue damask and retreated quickly "I simply thought you might have some clues as to what she would do Lily, where she would go, your business is your own. If I can be candid…" he was looking straight at her now and she wondered if he was ever anything else "She is accused of stealing a Faberge Egg…"

Now that had the effect he expected, unequivocal denial in her eyes and a panic that was already a mile ahead, cells, court appearances and worse already in her mind. "Where is she? The bastard! He is lying!" Lily was on her way to standing before his hand caught her

"I don't know yet...sit Lily…please" Fred Abberline lent back against the wall to reach into his waistcoat, his fingers emerging with a small silver flask, the metal and its contents warmed by his body. Small squeaks were all that could be heard as he unscrewed the top and held it out for her.

Lily frowned as she took a large swig, the warmth of his body easing its passage down her throat while she listened to the details he wanted her to know. Details about how he had visited the Comte and Comtess that very day and heard how Mademoiselle Blanchard had been left alone in the parlour for only one minute while they went to instruct the maid in the fetching of food, warm clothes and a small purse for the unfortunate who had talked her way into the Comte's goodwill at the Moulin Rouge, only to find her gone on their return along with the Egg.

They sat in silence for some minutes before Lily spoke, an edge to her that was pure white anger "I won't speak for myself Inspector but she is no thief - I swear to you on my mothers grave. And she weren't begging from the Comte neither, he paid for her" Despite herself her eyes were filling up, and it was a cascade of thoughts that was as dizzying as Lily herself "Merde...I watched her walk away, after he asked for her especially to join him in the box. I would money on it that she never even heard of the Faberge Eggs, and if she had she would have thought they were ones you could crack to have the richest breakfast ever." She stopped just for a second to take a breath "Don't tell me you believe that bloody rat! Aimee has nowhere to go except here Monsieur- if you were doing your job you would be out there looking for her! If he has hurt her I will see him in hell…". He wasn't answering, nor asking neither. In his many years as a copper he had never 'seen' a less likely thief but the reasons he had been assigned this case were becoming clearer even in the gloom of the sewing room.

A loud bang on the door made them both jump, for a moment united in that same panic of very usually having done something wrong, and Lily handed the flask back to him with a dismissive wave "I have to go, Monsieur Mauriac will have my wages too", he felt himself almost drowning in a surf of petticoats and then she was gone, the door swinging closed with a dull thunk.

In fact if she had the first idea where to even begin to look for Aimee she would have told Mauriac which place exactly he could stick his wages in, and have run out into the cold herself. But she did not. Aimee had arrived at the Moulin Rouge as had so many, penniless and eager to leave a past behind not dwell on it. They had spoken a little of their childhoods but the Moulin Rouge, Montmartre, was their world now and there seemed little outside of it to women who lived and breathed greasepaint and dancing, even Gabrielle for once had no bright ideas. Before the Inspector left the building the news was in every corner, Aimee had been kidnapped or worse.

Lily hid herself a little at the back of the troupe as she danced, despite the glare of Monsieur Mauriac, she needed to think, to find ways to explain to herself why she had ignored her own intuition and waved Aimee goodbye but, as she dug deeper and deeper into that precise well, she could only curse herself.


	3. Chapter 3

Fred Abberline had sat for a good while after Lily had departed, letting his body sink back down and the day's events find their order. A missing Faberge Egg, a missing dancer, a Comte and Comtess; neither of whom was going to win an acting award and that was guaranteed, except maybe in the music hall- their faces painted with grotesque and over exaggerated emotion. He had not been introduced to the other men who lounged in the chairs in the parlour of the Richileau mansion; clearly the Comte viewed the whole affair as clear cut as his God given right to more wealth than any one in the whole of Montmartre could comprehend- he had reported the crime- informed the gendarme of the culprit, and that surely was that. The Inspector smiled a bit as his hands ran through his hair and he stepped out into the hall- sometimes the disregard that class had for their inferiors made them assume you were stupid as well as poor.

He had studied alcohol very intimately, maybe a little more enthusiasm and detail than was strictly necessary, and he would know Russian vodka on someone's breath even from across a Louis XIV carpet. "Just find the strumpet and the Egg Inspector and your career will be- how shall I put it? Restored." As far as Abberline knew the French nobility rarely kept track of the pension plans of lowly English coppers, he had nodded with the required subservience and renewed his sensual interrogation of the surroundings. More curiously, he thought as he paused at the door that opened out onto the dark twinkling Paris night and slipped his arms into his soft brown jacket; a case that was of 'National Importance' according to the Commissioner, had yet landed on his lap, something was very definitely not right.

Then there was Lily DuBois who if nothing else spoke with directness that every sense he had said was right. She also made his blood flow faster and stronger than he could remember. Fred Abberline rolled a thin brown cigarette between his fingers and leaned back against the wall. It wasn't as if he hadn't been chased by the wives of colleagues, christ even the Comissioners wife had felt it necessary to run her feet up his leg while he tried to concentrate on the Duck a la Orange at some banquet, he'd found it reasonably hard to give his full attention to the aspagus tips in butter after that, hard but not impossible. Oh and there had been all those women his well meaning associates had introduced to necessitating endless trips to the opera and theatre and his mouth aching from the effort of smiling and chatting about the sorts of subjects he had no desire to know any more about.

Lily on the other hand, he thought as he touched the match to the soft brown end of his rollup, thudded through his veins in some way he had only a distant memory of. Jesus, he needed to stop thinking about her like this, it was really not doing anything for his concentration or his appearance. She was also at work, he shook his head while he buttoned up his jacket and looked up at the stage door, this was going to be hard if it took him this long to make a simple deduction.

With grim thoughts still in her mind, Lily bid adieu to Gabrielle after the curtain finally fell, and stepped out in the street alone. A shudder of damp air and shock gripped her bare shoulders as Lily looked up to see him waiting for her by the grandly named Stage Door. Anxious to cover her fright she smiled a little 'it is cold Monsieur...Inspector" and waited for his explanation as to why he would be still here. If he was honest with himself he wasn't quite sure.

They were so close she could see that the bristles on his chin and the creases of his shirt, some that were meant to be there and others that plainly were not and Lily took another look at this man just as his lips parted "Abberline...Inspector Frederick Abberline" a softness to his voice that maybe he nor her expected, before they both took a step back "Then I will lend you my cape, I need to talk with you more Lily, I need to know more about the Comte" Alright so that might have been true but all the same Fred Abberline didn't quite dare look down as he wrapped it around her shoulders, and Lily smiled a bit, she was going to enjoy figuring him out if only for the amount of time it took for the warmth of his body still deep in this cloth to take the chill from hers.

The climb up the uneven cobbled streets was not an easy one but Lily had dancer's legs, strong and powerful. Abberline from what she could see was fit too, a light drizzle that was threatening rain had dampened his clothes and without his cape the curves of his arms were visible under the white shirt, but all the same he was breathing too heavily, a doorway offered shelter and a place to catch his breath." You are ill Inspector?" Lily couldn't help herself, consumption creeping under the doors and in through the windows of too many houses in this city

Abberline held his hand out for her to join him under the stone and at once pulling tobacco from a pouch in his pocket, wry smile on his mouth "only from my own doing"

Lily withdrew her hand and flashed at him  
"Well Monsieur Inspector, I wish that all the citizens of the Montmartre had such a choice, now ask me your questions, unless of course you have little interest in the truth"

Frederick Abberline lowered his eyes in contrition "A fair point". Lily stopped for a while in the middle of her breath to look at him, this was no ordinary copper and it was quite disarming her, she watched smoke curl lazily through his lips and caught herself leaning a little "But you are entirely right- we need to proceed without delay" his voice just breaking her thought. The Inspector tossed his cigarette into a puddle where it fizzled for just a second and strode out into the rain leaving Lily to catch up. He was still thinking as they walked back out into the Paris night, but the elements had their own ideas. It was pouring now, absolutely pouring with rain. In the seconds that they half ran to the next doorway they were already soaked, the curls of Lily's hair dripping all down her skin

"Just one drink then, until it dies down?" Lily almost shouted over the clatter of rain on the lead roofs, pointing to a yellow light that flickered down the hill. Abberline well in an instant he had justified the thought with 'more information' before his body took over again and he felt a quite unfamiliar throb.

The dash to the bar had Lily and Abberline holding the cape above their heads, but for the good it did they may as well have lay down in the road and let themselves be washed there. Bursting through the door into what was possibly one of the roughest bars in Montmartre they were laughing and gasping both, he really did look rather sweet with rain drops on his eyelashes, Lily shook her head, sending a cascade of drips over his waistcoat "I suppose I was wet anyway" just a quick smile and they stepped up to the bar

"What will you drink Lily?" falling like a full bottle of gin between them- in fact you might just have been able to hear the sound of it rolling over the floor in the silence.  
Inspector Abberline screwed up his eyes, it was so easy to feel comfortable with this woman, so easy to assume they were something else because of the heat he could feel, to easy to forget he was a copper and she well...she was a dancer… a singer...a wild thing...a possible witness in a case...and she was fucking beautiful, even when she looked at him as she had done already an alarming number of times in the few short hours since he had met her, like she was about to hit him hard. His hands came up in a gesture of compliance "Sorry, you can buy me one instead if that feels better. I meant nothing by it."

Lily was damned if she was going to buy him a drink. What did he think she was? Desperate for his company? Christ he was lucky she would sit at the table with him. Lily Dubois drinking with a copper, what if someone saw her? She had a quick look round the room anyhow. But that left her with a problem and her cheeks coloured, she had no purse, no money and now she really wanted a drink.  
"As long as it is established Inspector, that the drink is neither payment for information nor anything else"  
"Most assuredly, my solemn promise I will not hold you to any bargain."  
"Then I will have a dark ale"  
"and some of that cassoulet I should think...just to soak it up"

Lily looked over at the pot, it had been a long time since she had eaten, and she nodded her thanks. Sitting at a small wooden table Inspector Abberline watched her ladle spoon after spoon of beans and ham, well what passed for ham, into her mouth while he leant back in his chair rolling thin brown cigarettes in his fingers, a flash of a ring caught her eye and between mouthfuls she managed "you are married Abberline? Back where you came from?"

"And there was I thinking it was customary for the copper to do the questioning Lily" all twinkle in his eyes until he remembered what the answer was "But since you ask, no...I mean I was yes back in London, but no more" his brow just furrowing for a second whilst he dug in his pocket for a notebook and the stub of a pencil "Now tell me about the Comte de Richelieu…"

The end of his question was drowned by the clamour of a huge bell , almost instantaneously setting off more distant ones stretching out over the side of the city. The whole of the bar stood up in one motion "Fire!" and in a city this fond of fostering close neighbours fire was a deadly enemy. Grabbing her last piece of bread Lilly felt the tug on her arm as he pulled her out into the street.


	4. Chapter 4

It seemed like the whole of Montmartre was suddenly awake and running towards Le Hôpital de Municipal, long lines of strong arms and purpose passing buckets of water to douse the flames. The elements however plainly didn't intend for this to be the night that the citizens of one of the poorest sections of the city also lost their hospital and for once smiling eyes looked at the black sky as the rain made short shrift of the most fearsome flames. Lily's eyes watched patients being lifted tenderly to less hot but dryer accommodations while Inspector Abberline frowned at the gestures of firemen anxious to be the one with the correct supposition about how a fire should come to start in the laundry room. "Une cigarette naturellement!" bringing howls of derision from others and a frown from the matron. The talk was so Paris fast that Lily could see him struggling to keep up, evidently school French didn't stretch to boilers and combustibles, but he seemed to get 'arson' and Lily stepped a little further forward to listen to the theories and expositions.

After several minutes a considerable woman clapped her hands "Anyhow Inspector, the truth of it will no doubt be revealed when this devilish night is through, but in the meantime I have a hospital to run, and it is fortunate that you are here, I have a young woman who will tell me neither her name nor how she came to be here, but I have grave doubts that the cuts and bruises that cover her were caused by falling down stairs. She will say nothing except 'Le Bourgeon Blanc'."

Lily intuitively covered her mouth to stop the cry that threatened to escape and held her breath instead. If Abberline responded any slower she would have assumed he had not heard, just the tense of his jaw revealed him "Is that so Matron? And where would I find this young woman?"

The matron sighed "She was, to tell the truth, disturbing the other patients with her sobbing and carrying on- I moved her to a room at the end of the corridor, most irregular you understand…she has no money. It was fortunate for her some might say though, since that ward bore the brunt of the fire"

Fred nodded sagely "A most judicious decision Matron. If I could prevail upon you still further, I would like to be informed personally should this woman have any visitors" Leaning close to her he spoke quietly "it is a matter demanding some considerable discretion..."The matron nodded her head slightly and in a night that appeared to keep getting more surprising she watched the Inspector accompanied by what appeared to be a woman dressed for the pleasure of men, march quickly down the polished wood floor. She really did have other things to worry about than the company apparently sought by the police these days.

"Mon Dieu!" The blood drained out of Lily's heart at the sight of her friend, pale blue eyes surrounded by red and purple, vivid colour stark against that white skin. Lily was at once adjusting bandages, stroking blonde curls and crying her own tears as she whispered "Who did this Aimee?", her question only answered by the thanks in Aimee's grip.

Fred Abberline had been thinking hard as he stood watching, his quick brain was already several connections down the line of the Comte and government officials and Russians, half heard conversations in the police headquarters corridors and lines of enquiry that had been closed to him in no uncertain terms and without explanation. He was brought back into the room however by her eyes raging at the smallest thought of Aimee underneath a man who would do this to her and overcome with fear at what it seemed now was more than a accusation of theft. Instinct had him reach to put his hand on her shoulder, the shake of her very frame calmed for just a seconds grace until it was broken by the voice of a man walking heavily down the corridor, drawing ever near and the matron protesting..."This a is a hospital Monsieur!, I am sorry I didn't catch your name... you can't just..." Abberline was on his feet seconds before he stepped out of the door pulling it to behind him. If they could have seen they would have noticed his hand holding tight to the door, plainly this man, who ever he was, was not about to enter.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Fred Abberline knew how to use his body and stood squarely to the door; if this man intended to enter he would have to have a good reason to decide to force the issue. Dark eyes eventually settled back on to Abberline's face, though there were seconds more before the man decided to speak, in a thick accented voice that matched his moustache "I was informed that zis is the room of Aimee Blanchard, a friend of mine"

Abberline took a deep breath and shook his head "Then I am sorry to have to be the one to break bad news to you mate. Yout information was correct except for one small detail..this WAS the room of Aimee Blanchard, sadly it is now occupied by another unfortunate…seemes they are two a penny round here" if Lily hadn't been holding her breath she might have laughed, or else shouted at him to watch his mouth, instead she listened hard "Sorry where are me manners? Inspector Fred Abberline…"

The tall man nodded "I have heard of you"

Abberline's mouth just turned up a little at the edge "Somehow I assumed that you would. Now please accept my sympathies… I believe the morgue is downstairs, no doubt your identification of the body will prove most enlightening. If you will excuse me for one moment, I have a personal matter to attend to". The door closed quickly behind him "I need to get her out of here you should leave with Aimee right now", their bodies moving at exactly the same moment brought Lily and Inspector Abberline face to face in the middle of the room "Do you have money Lily?"

She would burn him up with those eyes "You know that I don't"

With a second thought Fred dipped into his pocket, withdrawing his palm full of coins, he took her hand and extended her fingers "Take this to pay for a room, I will get you more just don't tell anyone where it is.** I** don't want to know where it is. Do what you have to, keep her safe and I promise you I will have this sorted out in a few days. Trust me Lily"

Lily turned to look at Aimee, get some agreement support, anything that would tell her to do what went against every thought she had ever had in her head,_ trust a copper_, she took a deep breath and shut her eyes "Oui". Grabbing whatever bottles of pills she could find and helping Aimee to stand took some strength and she spoke hurriedly again "Abberline, come to the boarding house late this afternoon, us women can help you…we can help with the evidence" There was a small smile of recognition on his beautiful mouth and Lily could have kissed him, but instead she opened the door out onto the street and looked out, her arms waving wildly at the sight of a carriage waiting for a fare. Fred Abberline watched the cab disappear around the curve of a corner, and breathed deep.

Lily put an arm round Aimee and sat back to let her mind settle for a moment, only a few minutes had passed before they arrived at their destination, Montmartre was like a warren, its streets only distinct to those who knew them like the palms of their hands, and Lily did. She climbed down and helped Aimee out of the carriage, gathering her friend against the cold wind  
"Merci Monsieur" and for the first time in her life Lily tipped a cab driver, well the first time in her life she had been in one with occasion to pay, and she smiled.

A loud knock brought Madame Tousson to the door, the scowl on her face ready to greet whatever enquiry was disturbing her from her sleep disappearing instantly at the sight of Lily, and as Lily had dared to hope she was already sitting in the parlour with a kettle on the fire and a mound of pastries before she could say 'Bon nuit'. Lily had been lucky, the 2 years ago she arrived in Paris, much as many of the women she danced with had, with nothing except dreams and a good helping of hope, it had been Madame Tousson she had chanced upon, who had taken her in and showed her where to go for work. Granted she wanted paying and a generous donation of gin whenever luck allowed, but she was honest and direct and just the sort of person Lily liked. She also liked intrigue and to have the faintest whiff that she might be involved in something 'hush hush' had Madame Tousson practically begging Lily to let her have Aimee stay.

Aimee for her part was weak and tired and Lily looked over and felt her heart twist "I need you to look after her Madame Tousson- whatever she needs, I will pay you, you have my promise, but no one must know!"

The older woman took Lily's hands "she will be as ma fille, Cherie, as are you. Come I will make you both up a bed"

Not so far away Fred Abberline stepped out of the hospital doors alone, the dissatisfied Russian seeming to have a sudden urgent engagement. But despite the strenuous cerebral activities that this case seemed to be demanding, what he found himself contemplating was the desire to be back in that bar, watching the gentle rise of that white cream skin which disappeared down into heat and the fullness of her red mouth as she talked. Where he was headed though, in fact, was the police issue rented quarters that still smelled of the cleaner that was used to scrub them out with between 'tenants' and which stood unpacked and under furnished even after all these months. If he had escaped the ache of London it was only to a half life in gay Paris, the half of the life he chose being a little further on, in the opium dens of Montmartre, and Abberline lengthened his stride. If he couldn't have her in his hands perhaps his dreams might be tempted to co operate.

His arrival was no surprise and Abberline sat in a familiar seat that was more home than home, his eyes focused on the pipe in front of him. The glass bowl at the bottom was a deep ruby red like the one of those southern French wines with no name, sold in whatever container you had to hand, hand blown into the shape of Aladdin's lamp and etched with an intricate whisper of gold paint to catch the fire light, swirls that only suggested the effect on sensibilities. An elegant brass neck and smaller suspended bowl in perfect jet sat regally on top, and Abberline smiled before reaching for a thin pipe, its mouth piece glowing amber in the shape of a cobra.

His fingers lingered over the warm undulations of the glass and cold of the brass, slipping along the red woven cover of the pipe and then with a soft smile he put the amber end of the pipe between his lips. Breathtaking bones jutted that much more as his cheeks hollowed to draw the smoke down into the pipe, a smile and he dragged a stream of cool smoke deep into his lungs, flooding warm liquid to his fingers and toes, and Abberline swayed in his body with the surge of the drug through every vein. His body sunk into soft and warm and he smiled to think of her for the seconds that it took before Aimee crashed into the red of his mind. Hitting the dark wall of an alley and crying to be spared.


	5. Chapter 5

Fred Abberline arrived at Police headquarters a little later than was customary, but this odd English policeman was given a wide berth, much like the tea with milk he drank. The lower ranking officers found his eccentricities amusing and whilst they might pull faces at the thought of taking orders from him, never quite sure if it would be a death knell to their own careers, they knew this was no commissioners lackey. If anything he took the heat off them, a fact acknowledged by the small cup of gunpowder black coffee that was pushed his way as he sat slightly crumpled as ever at his desk.

"It will help Inspector... peut-être!" a small giggle rippled through the room and Abberline just grinned

"Kill or cure? Is that what you are telling me?" His face grimaced as the bitter taste swirled in his mouth, the saving grace being the heavy sugar syrup at the bottom of the cup which he allowed to coat his lips. "Merci…peut-être. Now, I believe that the Commissioner is expecting an audience" and with a wry smile he gathered the rather unsatisfactorily slim bundle of papers on his desk and set off down the hall. The gendarmes listened to the rising sound of exasperation as it drifted through the wooden doors

"Inspector Abberline! I had hoped for your completed report this morning. Surely this is an open and shut case?" The reply was lost in soft tones and measured responses but nonetheless appeared to raise the Commissioners blood pressure "What do you mean 'It is more complicated than that'? The Comte is my personal friend, we dined only yesterday together...Yes it was a very pleasant meal amoungst friends! What has that to do with it?!...No I will not tell you who else was there!!...He has been the victim of theft! Inspector I have no need of your more unusual methods, and neither it seems did the English police…Please don't tell me you expect to proceed on the basis of a hallucination?! Sacre Bleu…Madame Pascale stop typing and fetch my tonic immédiatement"

The door of the Commissioners office closed behind him and Abberline shrugged at the gendarmes sat with their pens poised and slightly amused smiles "I have a feeling that didn't go so well, call it intuition…" and with a wink Abberline slipped back out into Paris.

Stepping into the weak afternoon sun Lily picked up her heels and fairly marched to Rue Belhomme to find the apartment of the artist Michel Demains, if she was going to get the women of the Moulin Rouge to listen to Inspector Fred Abberline, she was going to need Gabrielle's help. Not to mention that she was scared stiff herself and Gabrielle would be sure to have a hug and a glass of wine for her, so with conviction Lily approached a building and pulled the bell cord. A distant tinkle someplace in the building in front of her was all the response she got for some time, and Lily pulled the cape further around her shoulders, the autumn Paris afternoons seeping into her bones.

A daunting list of residents, past and present were scrawled on scraps of paper and displayed in a menu at the side of the door. Some no doubt once proudly inscribed- 'Monsieur Lautrec- appartement 4' and shadows of smiling figures, boxes of books, new easels and fresh paints, hurriedly dragged up the stairs to blank canvasses of rooms, pushed past her, their names now though like everything else suffering the rain and the grime of these streets. Lily pulled the bell cord again, her eyes casting upward just as an almighty clatter behind the door of feet on bare wood stairs broke the silence.

It was some climb up those stairs and but she was rewarded with a smile as wide as the Seine, Gabrielle sitting amoungst the tumble of stockings and empty glasses and beginnings of paintings that had been abandoned in favour of more direct artistic endeavours "What is the matter Lily? It hours until we have to dance again"

Lily rolled her eyes "I need your help with a Police Inspector"

Gabrielle raised her eyebrow "Lily Dubois surely you can manage a man on your own but a gendarme...are you ill?" Gabrielle's good humour however fell at the frown Lily gave, her face was serious all of a sudden as she listened to the tale Lily had tossed and turned over in her mind all night, of theft and fires and eggs and how he made her feel like she was about to drown. Michel poured the wine as the afternoon progressed into dusk and at last Lily wiped her face "So I need help with a Police Inspector- you know what the girls are like, well what I am like, rather trust our own than them bluecoats, but he needs help Gabrielle, to get evidence against these men"

There was quite a hub bub coming from upstairs by the time Lily and Gabrielle entered the boarding house, nothing stayed secret for long here, they were climbing the stairs when the landlady shouted from the kitchen below "There is someone here for you Lily" She knew it was him, and stage nerves were never this bad, turning about face she tucked her curls behind her ears and adjusted the thin lace at her breast.

"Abberline.." Jesus she had forgotten how good he looked, sitting at the check covered table , his shirt, waistcoat and jacket all buttoned up but with a face that was rebelling against formality, and a mouth should declared an enemy of the all that was 'decent'

"Lily..." he winced just a bit "I came to talk to your friends", and if he was about to say something else but she cut him off

"I know. Do you want to come up to my room?" she let that hang there a little "they are all here"

Inspector Abberline was holding onto the banister as he climbed the steep stairs behind her. This was ridiculous, he had got the whole thing planned in his head- the reasons why they needed to help him, his guarantee of their safety, but now it was all gone and he could just see her hips sway and a flash of her leg on the step above, Lily Dubois was a dangerous woman and there was no doubt. At the top of the stairs an open door revealed a packed room, full of the unruliest girls in all Paris and Abberline allowed himself a small smile, this job perhaps had its perks. His thoughts however were interrupted by a voice at the back.

"Lily what the hell are you doing bringing a copper in here for?" "I'll not be saying a word while he's here" "She's lost her marbles she has" muttering and not so quiet dissent all round the room before Gabrielle spoke louder than the rest  
"Why don't you let her explain then.."

And he found that actually he didn't need to remember after all because there she was, standing on the bed, her hands and her face doing as much of the explaining as her words- what had happened to Aimee, who was to blame, a flush in her cheeks that was all passion for the moment of a different kind, and then her eyes turned to him "And this is Inspector Abberline, now you girls know me- I am not one for coppers neither"  
Abberline nodded his head, she had made that perfectly clear "But I am telling you he is a good man and with all the will in the world there's nothing we can do to stop that Richileau by ourselves"

"I say we give him a chance- see what he can do" Gabrielle proposed from the other side of the room "and if that doesn't work, well we can get Lily go round and sort the Comte out" which seemed to lighten the atmosphere some, although in truth Abberline didn't look quite so keen on that option.

The room was quiet just as he stepped up to the bed.  
"Ladies.."

"Oh 'Laydies' are we now.. not whores or scum, that's what you lot usually call us. Afterwards anyhow"

Fred Abberline closed his eyes for a second " A fair point- I can't vouch for the morals nor breeding of any of you, but neither are those words I would have occasion to use. I need evidence, and I need your help to get it- you can easily circulate the hall and listen to the Comte and his guests- you can perhaps befriend the staff in his mansion. Your friend Aimee was set up of that I have no doubt, what I need is the proof"

There were a few remaining mutters but agreement was reached by some at least, and Abberline's fingers searched to find the top button of his shirt, it was unusually hot in this room, or it may have been that Lily had just stepped off the bed and was right next to him. "Well that went better than my meeting this morning.."

Lily smiled "You should go before you are lynched...or worse...ravaged by this lot. You can buy me a drink then, before the show starts" She might just have said take me to the moon, all thoughts centred right then on getting her out of this heat to somewhere he could breathe. Lily chattered all down the stairs, the heels of her boots, clicking on the wood, but she could feel the air behind her moving and it carried a scent of tobacco, men's wardrobes, musk, and something sweeter still, she couldn't identify it, not yet.

The streets were dark now, gas lamps few and far between in this part of the city and Lily squinted down the street both ways working out the distance to the nearest public house, she had not much time before she would be due on stage and whatever else happened she did not want to lose her job, not now that she would need extra for Aimee. Gabrielle, she might find a little extra too, oh but this was going to be difficult.

In short Lily's mind was whirling around, still going over what was said in the meeting, but mainly trying not to think about him walking next to her because what ever else was happening it was simpler than falling for him. But she was...Lily wasn't a woman unused to the touch of men, but her skin was tingling at the merest brush of his jacket on her arm, she caught herself stealing glances at him, turning corners so she could, mon dieu, that mouth was going to be the death of her. Strands of his hair were falling down over his face, and she could have watched those fingers push it back a thousand times

Catching her look Fred Abberline smiled and bent near to her face "Lily, not to cast doubt on your knowledge of the area at all, but where are we going? "

For the first time in minutes she looked up, and for an instant had no idea where she was. Apart from inches away from him, and Fred Abberline took her arm, a slight pull and "well wherever it is I think we are here" just as she felt her back hit the bricks of the wall, and his mouth just over hers. One look at each others faces and she just about breathed before his kisses rampaged over her lips, deep and hard and no quarter from either of them, her hands tearing into his jacket and his shirt to find any inch of skin she could. A whimper into his mouth as he pressed his tongue into her, his cock hard against her belly and Lily found his back- smooth and lean and all muscle and she pulled him in, her legs holding her firm to meet all the strength he had.

His mouth pulled away from hers and she could have screamed in protest but for the reward she got, his hands on the cloth over her breasts, and for the first time she could hear him over the sound of her own blood, his breath heavy and caught between gasps and suckles all down her neck and onto that soft skin that disappeared down, and he had thought all day about that skin that disappeared down, what her breasts would look like, what her skin would taste like in his mouth. And here he was...his cock harder than he could remember and Lily, her eyes closed and pressing back against him so that their hip bones fitted like some erotic jigsaw; he just shuddered at the promise of more

"Inspe..Abberline" she was slipping her hand out of his shirt and he manoeuvred them back with a smile  
"They are fine where they are, at least for now- will you forgive me, it wasn't my intention, I would have bought you a drink.."

Lily hadn't quite stopped panting but she fought to get her mind back  
"So you didn't want to...or you didn't intend to?"

Fred Abberline cast his eyes sideways down what he could now see was probably one of the dankest and darkest alley ways in Paris, certainly not what he had envisaged when he'd thought of kissing her those two thousand times already and then back to her mouth  
"Neither, I both wanted to and intended to, I just thought you might not.."

"Inspector vous pensez beaucoup"

His smile was a mighty thing, especially when she could feel it with her lips, his head tipping to find all of her mouth and his hands barely touching her face but all the more because of it and Lily ran her nails down his back to feel him shiver. When she could next speak she said the words both of them knew were coming "I need to go to work...and so do you"


	6. Chapter 6

Lily was pulling the bows on her stockings tighter in the bustle of the Moulin Rouge dressing room when another of the old hands ,as it were, bent down to whisper in her ear. The red curls of Elizabet were easily recognizable in the lamp lit mirror "Lily, tell that Inspector of yours that there's another girl involved some how. Giselle Martin. Least I heard her name not a half hour ago when I passed the Comte and his party on the stairs; they believe we are deaf as well as eternally grateful for one of their favours!"

Lily giggled and shook her head "Fools…mais merci chérie, you heard nothing else?"

"Non" Elizabet shrugged and grinned into the mirror "not apart from the scandal that Lily Dubois is consorting with bluecoats…all the papers say we are living in new times, maybe is true non?" Lily blushed, a little, and turned to kiss her friends cheeks "peut-être". Always maybe. Monsieur Mauriac however knew exactly how to spoil a moment of happiness and he screamed for Lily from out in the hall

"Mademoiselle DuBois! For some reason you have been requested in the Comte's box. Champagne…Maintenant!" Lily screwed up her face and sighed, nodding at the resigned 'bon chance' as Elizabet departed down the hallways. A few minutes later Lily stood, her head held high at the velvet padded door of the box that had been reserved for the Comte, a tray full of glasses and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, perfectly chilled and one of the finest served in the Moulin Rouge. Madame Clicquot herself no doubt would have smiled.

"Entrez!" A smart young man held the door for her and Lily crossed the thick carpeted floor to the table, her skin bristling and her senses all open. Strong fingers unwound wire and pressed the edge of cork to release a swirl of dry ice smoke, 4 glasses, she just had to pour. "Et voila Monsieur le Comte…" with a smile she let her fingers slip over the smooth glass, "Monsieur le Commissioner, welcome back to the Moulin Rouge, a votre sante…Et vous Monsieur…" her eyes looked directly at those dark black gems "what shall I call you?" every teasing implication that she could muster all in her voice, and the man could do nothing but respond, she was just a wh0re what did it matter? He thought how it might sound to hear her French mouth say his name

"Svyatoslav, you can call Svyatoslav"

Lily smiled and moved closer letting the champagne bounce off the bottom of the glass that she held in front of his mouth. A heavy hand on her shoulder though pulled her back, evidently she was not to call him anything and the fourth man stood quickly to guide her through the door. Lily knew a copper when she felt one, dressed too precisely in regulation civilian clothes and with those cool hard eyes that missed nothing, in truth she was glad to be out of there.

She was still shivering as she descended the stairs into the Hall, on stage the dancers were spinning and whooping and a great crowd clapping and cheering, another night promising to fulfill the best and the worst dreams of those who entered. Abberline...where was he..? Her eyes closed for a second, even the thought of him and her stomach had flipped over enough times that it could have been up on the stage too, she needed to find him and pass on what small information they had found. Oui, of course that was why she was searching the sea of faces.

Grabbing a tray full of drinks Lily wove through the crowded tables, bending to laugh at poor jokes, running her hand over rough chins, she was good at it- an instinct which tables had the biggest spenders and the most wandering hands. She even stopped at a table for a beautiful man whose fingers were cradling a pencil...a little too tightly perhaps for outlines and shading and his usual free strokes, as yet the page still snow white- but then Gabrielle was on stage and he didn't want to miss a second. "Bonsoir Michel" whispered and a free glass of wine in front of him, she would take the money from her tips.

At last she saw him in the shadows under the circle, sitting alone at a table with a cigarette between those long fingers and his eyes evidently following her, she could feel him from here, feet away yet but already her skin flushing. A deep breath and Lily made her way towards him, a smile here and there, but pulled right across the crowds "Inspector Frederick Abberline... what is it that you would like?" with a step she was in his lap, her hand on his cheek, a small whimper at the feel of his skin that only he could hear escaping her lips.

Fred Abberline's lips just parted a little as his eyes sunk down to where her breasts were not inches from his face, he cleared his throat "Do you think this is wise Lily?" just quiet but with some difficulty all the same

"No, but then I am a chorus girl, Inspector, we are not known for our careful consideration of the pros and cons, unlike a clever policeman like yourself" She was cheeky and she knew it "Any how almost every other man in the place has a woman on his lap...we wouldn't want to raise suspicions now would we?" her lips were almost touching in his ear and she licked the tip of it with her tongue "So you had best look interested"

Fred Abberline closed his eyes and sat back in his chair, leaving Lily to feel the movement of his hand up her thigh "I don't think that will be a problem Lily. Now if you were exhorting me to look disinterested then that might be more difficult- especially should anyone take a good look when you get up from this table..." Lily nearly moaned out loud, which definitely wasn't the usual sounds expected of the women serving these tables.

Her eyes, a little out of focus, but always on the look out, spotted Claude peering her way, she would have to talk fast and she pulled his face to hers "I went to see the Comte...Abberline...he asked for me" well she might have smacked him for the sudden change

"You did what?! Lily what would possess to do that?"

Her fingers were on his lips, Christ, that felt good, but she pulled herself back-  
"I had to, and in any case I have information for you" She spoke quicker French than he had ever heard and he was concentrating hard, the only issue was the focus, nevertheless undercover police and Giselle Martin were clear enough. Abberline stared back at her, a nod before his hand was behind her neck and his heavenly lips held the sweetest kiss against hers "hold that for now Lily. And this is for Claude, you understand?" as he slid a pile of francs onto the table and watched her disappear.

Fred Abberline smiled, this day really was turning out better than expected, but he was no fool. All the evidence in the world could be buried without trace and he could be facing the bleak prospect of finding alternative employment with only 'disgraced policeman' as a reference. What he needed was the tie in with the undercover DGSE, the shady names he could put pressure on, and if necessary threaten to expose if they didn't give up the Comte. Ah now that wasn't a great career move either, but since 'hanging on by the skin of his teeth' about summed up his position anyhow, what was there to lose? Apart from ending up in the Seine of course...there was that. A slight wince, well looking on the bright side it would unlikely to be before the end of the night, a thought that caused another wince but for a different reason entirely.

And there she was- kicking impossibly high, so that the cream of her skin was flashing before his eyes and Abberline groaned at the pulse of a thought about those legs around his hips. He needed some air and some straight thinking. Passing Gabrielle, Abberline smiled- "Tell her I will be back if you would" And Inspector Abberline stepped out into the cold, setting a pace towards the DGSE building over the river.


	7. Chapter 7

Abberline watched from the dark doorway as two men exited the main steps of the DGSE building. They had coats buttoned up to their chins but their faces were familiar. Cold hard and completely without morality, the secret police came from the same brood wherever you went in the world. He waited until they had rounded the corner then slipped from the shadows and across the street confidently walking into the reception area. The young desk clerk barely had time to stand up before Inspector Abberline was brushing past him towards the stairs "Wait Monsieur...you have to sign in"

Fred Abberline turned on his heels, an exaggerated sigh "I tell you what, since you are the one with the paper and the pen, why don't YOU fill in my name...OR I could waste my time and that of your boss by filling in forms in triplicate, while you stand there looking like a nob, and he waits upstairs getting that look in his eye...you know the one...'Look for another job'..." Abberline raised his eyebrows and with a dismissive "I will be on me way then…" continued up the wide stone stairs to the floor above. He tried the handles of a fair few on the darkened stretch of corridor before he found the one that was locked and grinned to himself, slipping a switch blade from his pocket and into the key hole, jiggling it gently 'open sesame..' maybe it was just superstition but it seemed to work.

Working by candle light he fingered through thin grey files, 'Blanchard', a small frown passed through his brows to see 'DuBois', 'Richileau' but found nothing more than cold details until he muttered 'Faberge' under his breath. And there it was- copies of the original theft report, statements by the Comte and Comtess, Aimee's 'Death Certificate' and, at the back, another thin paper folded in two. He squinted at the writing which was a statement given to a police officer by the name of Mouton at the local police station, by a Giselle Martin, whose occupation was listed as 'scullery maid'. What made Abberline's heart skip one or two beats was the address. Les Tuileries

"Bloody hell! That's the Comtes place! " drifted out of his mouth as his eyes moved quicker even than his brain to take it in. It appeared that Mademoiselle Martin, had not only heard the shouts as Aimee had been 'discovered' but from the back door of the scullery had seen Aimee knocked to the floor and kicked repeatedly before being bundled into a carriage. She reported with some shock apparently seeing the Comte smiling and clapping the man on the back before retiring back into the house. She had, she said, reported what she had seen to the head cook but was told that it was non of her concern, a point of view clearly she did not share.

A loud laugh in the hall brought the Inspector back to where he was, there was nothing to do except relieve the DGSE of this obviously unwanted piece of paper, which should anyhow have found its way onto his desk. That would have to wait. The thing now was go get out of this building and find Mademoiselle Martin, and without delay, if he wasn't going to end up with another crime to add to those no doubt piling up in police headquarters. Nothing for it except to walk out of there the way he came in. Abberline slid the paper inside his jacket and let his mind concentrate on the slipping of buttons through holes instead of the more taxing proposition of coming face to face with a no doubt curious agent of the DGSE as he stepped back out into the hall.

He had always found that if you looked like you were late people tended not to stop you, alright so he had more often tested that out on the fore mentioned wives and sisters and maiden aunts of colleagues but then again this **was** the DGSE, not known for their social niceties, he would just have to hope his luck held. There was a nasty moment when a door to an office swung open, necessitating a quick about turn, but at last he reached the front door, the call of the desk clerk as he disappeared out into the night air making him smile "Shall I sign you out sir?"  
"You can sign out Napoleon Bonaparte if you like sonny" muttered under his breath as he hailed a cab

The carriage stopped outside the dark boarding house, just glimmers of candle light in the windows, and Abberline climbed out climbed out, his boots loud on the cobbles and echoing down the thin street. Despite the loudness of the knock, it was sometime before the door opens an inch or two "What would a gentleman be wanting here at this hour?" He smiled at her and was taking the stairs in no time, somewhat faster than was necessary it has to be said.

Lily had long since decided that since he had apparently disappeared off the face of the earth into the arms of some other less disreputable woman or the even colder arms of the DGSE, brandy was the only answer. She was well into the 'he really is no good for me, what was I thinking of?' all mixed up with the touch of her fingers along her lips to see if she could feel him still when the door swung open and it was his turn to gasp. The candle light diffused a picture Botticelli himself might have sketched, her body barely concealed by white cotton and a mouth smiling an invitation, she was stretched out on a tumble of sheets and already softening to greet him. He had to close his eyes to say it "Lily I need your help, we must find Giselle Martin before they do, though if I am honest with yer I don't know exactly who 'they' are, she is in mortal danger. We have to go."

Well at least she was with him, which was how Lily was trying to reconcile why it was that she was now getting dressed instead of feeling all those buttons against her skin. Fred Abberline was standing in the doorway of her room, his body leaning against the door frame watching her pull a dress over her head and fumble with the fastenings...Christ she maybe had drunk a little bit too much of that brandy  
"You want to help me Abberline? Since you are the one insisting on buttons being done up rather than down?" a little giggle and she tried again. The both knew that one step forward would be the end of detection for tonight

He took a breath- he always wanted to be a policeman, but the reason was quite escaping him now. "The maid Lily...we have to find Giselle Martin and quickly." As much to remind himself

"Yes yes.! So Aimee is safe, and this maid is saved and you get to find the egg and justice is done and all that, but I want you right now" her voice trailed off as the last bow was pulled tight "There. I am ready- if you touch me I swear you won't leave this room."

His low moan was lost in the huge hammering on the door downstairs, all down the street lamps were being lit and curses uttered, the noise ringing out in the cold Parisian night. They could hear the door opening accompanied by the curses of Madame and the breathless voice of a young man surging up the stair well. "I am Officer Mouton Madame- I am looking for Inspector Abberline, there has been a shooting at the home of the Comte de Richileau, the Comte he is dead...the Inspector-he must come at once"

Lily closed her eyes "Just go..."  
"Lily…"  
She brushed off his hand on her shoulder with the confidence that she knew she would regret withing a second and sat back on her bed, her eyes already filling and the clatter of feet down the stairs ringing in her ears. She could just hear him- "Les Tuileries. Vite" and she had taken another two huge slugs of brandy by the time she found herself doing what she knew she had no choice in, pulling her shawl around her shoulders. The next two slugs she took to take her mind into that of a penniless scullery maid, in need of somewhere to rent and the means to rent it.

The night air was probably the best thing for Lily, and as she walked towards the Pigalle she planned it out in her head, but spoke aloud "Le Poussoir Rouge- I should start there", well it was better than no company at all. She was about to ring the bell to what was possibly the least inviting door it would be possible to imagine- one too many drunken arguments with a doorman scarring the woodand the deitrius of a night already nearly over evident in a slumped body beside it, when a woman's voice called out. "Down on your luck then Lily?!"

She grinned back, it wasn't so far from here to the Moulin Rouge after all "Ah no- I am not here to steal your trade Monique!" raucous laughter echoed in the dark lane and Lily was glad of their warmth, even if they had nothing to tell. "Giselle Martin? Non…" There were any number of women passing through these streets and one more went quite unnoticed "Try Les Bras de Maçons down the street"

Lily winced a bit "Anyone have a knife I can borrow? - just in case?" With some trepidation and a small blade down her sleeve Lily stepped into the bar of Les Bras de Maçons, the air thick with smoke, the smell of spilt beer and bodies and she did her best to slip unnoticed through the groups of men, her eyes searching for she wasn't sure what, now that she thought of it.

"What will you have?" the barman's tone was more of an instruction than a question and Lily took a deep breath

"I am looking for a young woman..."

"And so am I!" huge hands had hold of her hips from behind and Lily gritted her teeth

"Monsieur. Take your hands off me- I am neither for sale nor for the asking" The hot beery breath on her neck was making her feel nauseous and Lily swung round, the small knife now in the palm of her hand "I can assure you I will use this in your belly if you don't take you hands of me" The drunk obviously figured she was too much like hard work and with a curse that Lily hadn't heard in a while stepped back into the sea of men. Lily turned to the barman, desperation that she hoped he could see "Please Monsieur...Giselle Martin, I must find her"

The barman's face screwed up a little in thought, she was pretty enough after all, and maybe she would have a kiss for him later if he gave her what she wanted "Giselle, maybe that was her name...small brunette, she was here an hour ago, though she was hardly standing. The man she left with drinks in the La Tête de Porcs. Come back here after you find her…" Lily shook her head slightly with a smile of thanks all the same

Outside however she leant against the damp wall and gritted her teeth. La Tête de Porcs, of course it had to be there, a drinking hole with no hours kept and no rules, mon Dieu, why hadn't she found Gabrielle to come with her? Lily breathed deep, well there was the state of things- her, rough drunk alone in the Pigalle searching the darkest depths of the city's underclass for a woman who didn't want to be found, and him, well him no doubt this minute feeling the deep plush of carpet under his feet, surrounded by crystal and light and men with important faces and fine port. Alright so there was a dead body but .it might still be better to find that, shot clean than to dip into the muck of Paris

Her jaw tightened, if there was a time to jump ship it was now, before she really jumped ship and walked into that place taking on whatever she found there. She could go back to her room and finish that bottle and tell him to get out of her life and her thoughts. Why not? What did she owe him? Nothing save the heat she could feel when he touched her. Only she couldn't, even if her eyes were brimming with frustration and fear, she couldn't abandon Aimee, nor this Giselle to a similar fate, nor could she abandon who she was. Inspector Frederick Abberline had better not let her down.


	8. Chapter 8

'D'acord Lily Dubois' Lily pulled the pins out of her hair and scraped the remainder of the makeup from her eyelids, one did not simply walk into 'La Tête de Porcs' and expect no attention, but all the same she hoped to pass at least less noticed. A knot in her stomach twisted, something about having the right to be who she was wherever she went and have no fear, but all the same Lily pulled the edge of her dress up as far as it went and closed her eyes. Another battle, another century maybe and she pushed open the door. The tang of men and alcohol tasted in her mouth before she could see through the fog of a hundred Gauloises Brunes, it was late now and only the most determined remained, men for whom paying for a room seemed like an unnecessary expense and women who didn't care, Lily's boots skidded once on the wet floor as she circled the seven corners of the room, hoping that she didn't have to actually enter any of them. She might have brushed off a dozen hands and evaded a dozen more before she gritted her teeth at the feel of an arm round her waist and loose lips on her bare neck. There was no point in talking now; no words that would be understood nor respected and Lily pulled herself away from grappling hands to find someone who still might help

Abberline's money, and though she didn't want to admit quite why, her own wages stuffed into a loose pocket in her dress, and she scoured for someone she couldn't have described if anyone asked, someone less drunk, who might have recognized a stranger in the bar, who hadn't abandoned everything to right now. She stopped herself from running out of there, took a breath of stale air and approached a woman at the bar who had her eye in most corners. "Pardonnez moi…Connaissez-vous Giselle Martin?" A flicker of suppressed recognition in the woman's eyes spurred Lily on, tonight was absolutely the last time she intended coming here "J'ai l'argent" The curl in her lip had Lily step back, perhaps that had come out wrong, mon Dieu, she would be one of the lost in Paris.

"T'as d'l'argent pour la payer?" Lily took a long look at the woman in front of her, old beyond her years, hard as the dark Seine and equally changeable, if she felt at all then it was someplace deep and hidden, and Lily nodded. Giselle, whether she knew it or not, was being bought and sold by strangers, an unfortunate in more ways than one, and whatever else this woman in front of her was, and Madame was too refined a word for it, she held the key to the whole mystery.

"Oui, ma dame m'a envoyé ici pour la trouver; elle payera le prix que vous voulez."("Yes, my lady sent me here to find her; she will pay whatever you want") Lily did her best to look up, look like it was nothing, look like she had no scream in her heart about buying another person, least of all a woman. "Combien? For the rest of the night? What's left of it? Madame…?" She didn't think she could bear to haggle about price, if all the money she had wasn't enough she didn't know what she would do; Lily's eyes followed the eyes of the woman sitting opposite, and she struggled to control a wince.

"Madame Moreau, and your lady has poor taste…" They both breathed out, Giselle Martin was barely conscious of the bar, the man with whom she would never remember, nor the danger she was in, half undressed already and Lily bit her lip, a silent curse that carried the turn in her stomach

"Oui c'est vrai! Mais Madame Moreau…encore...how much?" her hands reached into to her pocket for a roll of francs, a flash of green apparently focused the mind, an instant calculation considered the roundness and the thickness sufficient

"She is yours…"

Lily closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, and leaving Madame Moreau to deal with the man's unwilling sudden loss as she hauled a half dead weight out into the cold night air. Giselle protested a little, but not enough to stop Lily Dubois. They might have walked miles, or maybe a few streets either way Lily was swaying under the exertion of half dragging this woman to the only house she knew she could trust, Madame Tousson. Except this time she didn't wait for tea and pastries, this time she had to find Abberline fast

A cab was not easy to come by, and she was almost shaking with anticipation and exhaustion by the time the huge round wheels crunched across the gravel approaching Les Tuileries. The whole of the mansion was lit up- there were carriages everywhere, men in dark jackets and hats and the staff of the house standing shivering in the cold night air. Stepping out Lily begun to wonder if this was such a good idea as her approach to the house was barred by a tall policeman, his face sneering as he took in her all in, but she was in no mood to be delayed, Christ if she could handle La Tête de Porcs at 4 am, there was little chance of this man with fluff on his chin stopping her.  
" I must see Inspector Abberline- it is of the utmost importance. And pertains to this case"

Abberline had hoped that he had seen the last of the DGSE for one night but he had been disappointed, the driveway of the Tuileries had been crowded with black carriages on his arrival, hushed conversations that seemed to hang in the air as he stepped over the considerable threshold. Once inside the mansion Abberline had stood for a while surveying the body of the Comte, the look on his face, the manner of his dying being as ugly as the way he lived his life evidently. There were things to examine, clues to be found as to the whereabouts of the Egg and the Comtess- of that he was certain, and in that way that he had, he swept around the house, just looking. Of course fingerprints were been dusted and statements taken, the stuff of 'real' detection, but there was a reason why Abberline was still employed and it had little to do with the ability to handcuff suspects, he just knew things. Weird connections in his brain perhaps, or maybe her was just weird, certainly there were many who thought precisely that

The Comtess' bedroom, that would undoubtedly be the place and he sat down on the heavily stuffed bed, the silk covers slippery underneath his legs and cool against his hand, the scent in the room was still of violets, and the dressing table bare. Ah... The inspector opened the doors to the dressing room, he was unsure if he had ever seen so many clothes, clothes arranged in sections. His long fingers trailed through the cloth, ball gowns, day wear, light summer chiffon and not one heavy coat. Ah...boots- check the boots. He was beginning to breathe deeper now. Out of the dressing room to her sitting room and Abberline closed the door and stroked the hair that graced his upper lip, what was that? He opened his mouth to taste as well as smell, vodka. Vodka which led to brandy

Jesus, the thought of it, of her, sitting there smiling in her nightgown, those buttons she hadn't been bothered to do up, a bottle of brandy to her lips and the sort of welcome home in her eyes that could make him want to never leave the house in the first place. Abberline frowned, it was here somewhere, the answer to the puzzle- he would find it and get back to her. '6.30am' it said 6.30am on the pad next to the phone. He closed his eyes to think. Who did she phone? These were not detailed plans, she knew where she was going, she just needed the time, she phoned to ask the time that she would what?...Christ...A train. Not just any train, all of this room screamed opulence and style. She was heading east, to where the egg came from. Orient, she was heading East…

Abberline was almost running down the stairs at the moment that Lily slid past the policeman at the door, like Cinderella in reverse but the clock was way past the time for a ball and she just ran into his chest. Her eyes searching all of his eyes, her fingers running over his lips so she could feel the pulse of his blood "I found her Abberline..Giselle..I found her.." he had known that she would, didn't dare hope, just knew, and, grabbing her hand they were helter skelter out of the open doors  
"Come with me Lily- we have a train to catch"

Their thighs were just touching as the carriage carried them back through the huge iron gates and onto the boulevard, a kick in the horses step and they had a few minutes before the imposing facade of the Gare de l' Est would tower above them. He couldn't keep his hands from touching her, gentle on the side of her face whilst his tongue found the sweetness in her mouth, her fingers now finding his chest and his throat "Oh Lily.." He clenched her hand in his, waves of release but an inch away, and inch and an investigation away "Where is she?"

"Safe..." her hand slipped under his jacket to burn in his heat and he put his head back on the hard of the carriage wall

"And how did you manage that?" well he might have spoken, he wasn't quite sure

"I bought her Abberline" stark and hard and neither of them moved, nor breathed, there was not a man alive that she had ever met who would understand even a sliver of what that would mean for her, except maybe him, and she needed to know. His hand was still over hers as he opened his eyes, deep dark brown and looking right back, a slight nod that was all she needed "Promise me Abberline.." and whatever it was she was asking he would have given right then, as long as she just didn't stop kissing him.

It was a cold dawn breaking in the sky over the Gare de l'Est when Lily and Abberline stepped out of the carriage a little breathless, the huge windows catching the flashes of light that were breaking the clouds and the fingers of another long night. High above them the hands on the white face of the clock clunked through another minute, 6.15 already and they had yet to find the platform from which the Orient Express would depart for Vienna, Budapest and Istanbul. With Lily's hand tight in his Abberline ran through the imposing entranceway into a huge hall, the vaulted ceilings higher almost than Le Sacre Coeur, everywhere, even at this hour filled with people and luggage, huge trunks destined for far flung corners, the congregation fresh from their beds and wide eyed with the earliness of the hour and the excitement that seemed to be part of the very brickwork of this place.

And there was no way that the train that caught the eyes of Lily and Abberline was anything but the Orient Express- long, black and sleek, even its wheels looked polished, everywhere guards were assisting those with enough money to travel in such a train, the promise of a large tip this early in the morning would surely enable a nap in the guards room later. It was impossible not to gasp as glimpses of white table cloths and silver, crystal and rich red leather slid past their eyes through glass windows, the doors of cabins opened to reveal porcelain and sumptuous linen, and Lily almost forgot why she was here.

Fred's eyes however were searching faces, a knot of dread that maybe he had been wrong, a dread that maybe she wasn't here at all, coiling in his belly. A loud blow of the whistle signaled 5 minutes to go before the pistons would slide into motion, and billows of steam clouded through the platform condensing in the cold air. Jesus where was she? Desperate now Abberline let go of Lily's hand and jumped onto the train, a guard thinking twice about barring his way "The Comtess de Richileau- where is her cabin?"

"She has yet to board Monsieur" a nervous look at his fob watch revealed the lateness of the hour "though her trunk is stowed already"

Good, that was good- at least he could say his hunch was right, even if he didn't turn up back at the office with the Egg, a murderer nor a crime report, the Christmas bonus was looking even less likely than normal. Almost resigned to the disparaging looks he cast his eyes over the length of the train, at once unfocussed and now with the ability to see. She was a spectre in the smog, her thin frame about to step into the carriage, almost transparent despite the thick furs which enveloped her and he was racing down the platform "Comtess.."

She closed her eyes and sighed deeply  
"Did you want something? I am delayed already Monsieur, the train is about to leave and I must find my cabin"

"I am Inspector Abberline, Madame le Comtess, and I most assuredly do want something- your presence in the back of my carriage as you accompany me to the police station to be charged with theft and murder"

A flinch of irritation crossed her mouth "This is already resolved- he assured me..."

Another whistle and doors were beginning to slam shut, there was just a moment when she went to step up and felt the pressure of his hand on her thin arm, a woman used to the obedience of almost all around her, she looked back at Fred Abberline with something like surprise. It was him who spoke first "Comtess, there is no one I can think of that will mourn the passing of your husband, and I can live with the disappointment of not seeing you at the gallows, two deaths seeming to be a high price even for a marriage made in hell. What I can't do is let you leave with that Egg"

The Comtess threw back her head "Ah another of you bent policemen- oh no wonder you are despised, did le DGSE send you after all?" Lily watched as the muscles in his face harden

"Clearly a life surrounded by lies and deceit has corrupted your perception Madame, for that I suppose I should pity you- your 'friends' will no doubt fail to recall your name as you climb the steps to the block. Now you have one minute to decide- your freedom or the Egg"

Thin leather clad fingers reached into the sequined bag that she had clutched to her chest, a look of sheer exasperation on her face as she pulled out a silk covered treasure "Take it..." Fred Abberline nodded and slipped it into the pocket of his jacket  
"I suppose I should thank you Inspector..." but his reply was lost in the rush of steam.


	9. Chapter 9

Abberline took a deep breath and turned back to where Lily stood, surrounded by other people's trunks and other people going someplace, and he held out his hand "will you come with me?"

"You think I have another plan Abberline?" all but her smile was drowned in the pistons and whistles as the train inched a long the platform and off to the East

Once outside the entrance of the station Lily pulled Abberline up from his fast march, her hand slipping through his arm "Where are we going in such a hurry? Do we have to return the Egg to the police station?" In truth Lily was so tired now she could hardly keep up with him, the idea of hours more without rest was only salvaged by the thoughts of afterwards. Abberline stopped, his smile down into her face a little lopsided and his eyes on her lips, she could feel it already, that wave of heat through her, he was beautiful from afar, close up he took her breath away.

"The Egg is as safe as it can be...Lily, you however have a nasty habit of slipping through my fingers and I have no intention of letting that happen now" His mouth just next to hers and she could almost taste him already, her questions all lost in the feel of his breath in her mouth

"Mon Dieu- will you kiss me?"

"I will, when you are inside a locked room with me, where you can't escape to save any lost friends, maids nor even hurt puppies, where no one knows where we are even if all the Faberge Eggs, save this one, get tossed in the Seine, and where if the bloody place burns down around us then at least we will die happy" He had her arm and, almost without her realizing, was guiding her up some long marble steps, until she turned to look at the gilt handles on the revolving door in front of her that was.

A frown pulled her brow together and Lily put her hands to her hair, a whisper of "I can't go in here Abberline..."

His smile would have her fall "Yes you can, we can go anywhere we want." and with that he pushed open the door to the Hotel Paris. The Lobby was still quiet save the distant clink of silver being laid out for breakfasts and a hum from the kitchens, coffee and warm bread filled the air and Lily heard her belly protesting, which did little to calm her disquiet at being here in the clothes she put on what seemed like a life time ago, for a visit to the sort of place she doubted any of the guests here would have even dreamt of. Peut etre.

His hand was in the small of her back as they stood a little more than disheveled in front of a desk clerk, silver buttons shining and the sort of look that would wither a lesser mortal at a hundred paces. Abberline winked at him "you don't happen to work for the DGSE at night do you?" a wry grin "A room if you please...and some breakfast on a silver tray and with a vase and all that..." a wave of his hand that encompassed everything that they might need.

The desk clerk didn't even open the book "I think Monsieur that you have the wrong sort of hotel" It was quite unclear which one of them he thought was going to hit him first and he swallowed hard, his nervous fingers flicking through pages of reservations as the air bristled

"We will have a room with a bath too in that case- and if there is a second more delay I can assure you that the Commissioner of Police will hear of the illegal shipments of smoked salmon I have uncovered in my investigations into your hotel. That will be 'Inspector Frederick Abberline' you will be needing to write in your book." Lily was giggling out loud as they ascended the carpeted stairs, the width of which she can't quite get over, but now the proud owners of a gold key with which to open the door to a 'luxury' room.

He had barely turned the key in the lock before they were kissing and touching everything they could, just a sense of where the bed was behind her as his mouth propelled her backwards, her hands inside his jacket, pulling it from his shoulders before it hit the floor with a thud on account of an egg worth several thousand francs, but no where near as precious what he had in his hands right now. The edge of the bed tipped her back and she was there at last, his hips between her thighs and her hands all in his hair while he kissed her hard, no chance of a breath save to share each others. Feeling her hips rise to meet his, her body at last pressing into his cock Abberline's moans made her head spin "merde…" he had no idea what she said next but it sounded like sex itself.  
"Let me undress you Lily.."

His fingers were on the buttons of her dress, one by one down to her waist, a pull on the ties of her chemise underneath before he slipped it from her shoulders, his hands over her soft skin, just the palms of his hands making her shudder, light brushing touches that had her shaking with raw desire and her hips moving  
"You too Abberline...I want to see you"

Her fingers were tingling so much she could hardly undo the knot of his tie, funny since it generally looked half way undone already and a curse muttered under her breath brought his hands over hers, soft kisses just on her lips and the touch of his tongue as he helped her slip the buttons undone of that white shirt. His arms out she ran her hands down his shoulders all the way to his fingers, catching them to squeeze between hers while her mouth followed a trail down his chest, and his head went back to look to the ceiling, heavenly breath and fingers in her hair

"Lily, I need everything you have and I don't want to take it either- I want this, us here now, to last forever…will you let me bathe you while I talk?" Lily brought her head up from his chest her lips dragging against his skin "you can have whatever you want Abberline".

It was just a step in to the bathroom adjoining the bedroom and Lily watched him lean to turn on the gilt taps, clunking pipes heralding a stream of steam and then gushing water into the white bath. She couldn't keep away from him even if she wanted to, seeking his warm skin against her breasts and the feel of his hands pushing her dress down over her hips until it fell to the floor. Naked against the cloth of his trousers, she felt him hard all the same, her fingers running down his back to his ass while the bubbles foamed in the bath

"You are so beautiful" He had hardly looked but his hands informed his brain, well what was left of it, fingers slipping between her legs, the both of them curling against each before she felt his lips on her ear "you are beautiful...and that's why I need to talk to you before we do this" The water was threatening to wash over the top, slopping on exquisite tiles in puddles under her feet and Lily reached up to hold his face in her hands, hardly able to speak as she stepped into the water. An involuntary moan spilled from her lips as the warm water flooded over her body, and she sunk beneath to feel it in her hair, his fingers tracing the bone of her hip and the curve of her belly in the soapy satin heat.

"Lily I need to tell you about my wife- to let her go so I can love you" her back against the walls of the bath, a hand through her hair and the other reaching for his lips just a touch over that mouth and she nodded "Then talk Abberline"  
It would have easy for him to sit with his back to the edge of the bath and talk onto the air, let the wall see his face and his pain, let her be an anonymous hearer of his tale, but Fred was very rarely about easy. So instead he knelt by the side of the bath, his fingers tangling in Lily's hair, his eyes searching her face and her body for understanding and comfort and inspiration really that he could do this - and Lily did inspire him to believe he could do anything; there was no other reason to be here.

Lily watched this man smile with happy memories of a wedding day, a 'match made in heaven' everyone said, she could almost hear the tinkling laughter of a honeymoon by the sea at Brighton, and smell the salt air as they paraded along the shore, his beautiful mouth bending to kiss his new wife when he could bear it no more. She listened to his regrets, the long hours trying to make a name for himself in the police department, to give her all those things he thought she should have, if she asked for them or not, but the joy of coming home to her, their bed.

Fred Abberline's eyes closed to catch his breath and Lily sat up, the water running rivulets down her skin and she held him while he told her of how one night he had returned at 3am, some chase through the dark streets only to find her awake still- a candle burning by the side of the bed, her hair all curled over the pillow, and how he had laid on top of her while her sweet voice told him she was going to give him a child.

Lily lifted his head in her hands to see his face and it was all right there, the overwhelming surge of love and despair and pleading that she understand why he was here. Her own eyes smarting she placed a kiss on his lips and she whispered "tell me …"

It could never be different with him, painstaking details of the round of her belly as the months passed, the crib, the way that she walked that had made him smile and then the birth. And Lily could hardly keep from weeping to see him pulled apart at the seams as he told her about the midwife's face when she came down the stairs to tell him that he would have had a son, that he had tried to run up the stairs to find his wife- to tell her it was alright that e loved her more than ever, despite the wrench in his heart, but that the midwife had caught his arm, the delivery had taken his love too.

She was out of the bath in a second and holding him up, her arms all around him. "I am not finished yet Lily- that was 5 years ago and the rest has been about forgetting. Any unsolvable case, absinthe, opium" his eyes up into hers to see her react, but he just saw Lily and if she could bleed for him he knew she would "anything that would make it better"

Lily looked right up at him, her fingers tracing the lines on his face, those cheek and that moustache, the curve of his eyebrows, mustering a watery smile she mouthed "then let me help you too.." Her fingers in his belt and over his hips to slip his trousers to the floor and they were there- the bright light of day now pouring through the window, naked, visible and raw in front of each other, the tracks of tears still sticky on their faces when she kissed him hard and felt him move.

Calm now, she took his hand they walked back to the bed, minutes where they lay opposite just looking before his hands moved to cup her breast and she let Fred Aberline take everything he needed, soft lips over her skin, suckling and pulling her into his mouth while his fingers found the dips and swells of her, found all her wet and heat. All that he had, now hers, the palm of her hand coaxing him, wet and harder still, the sounds of their moans indistinguishable in the morning air. "Christ Lily- it has been a while, this will not take long" the first time she had seen him smile in a while, her hands in his hair and her tongue deep in his mouth, pressing up against him before she answered with a grin  
"Then we will do it again and again Inspector Fred Abberline"

"Is that what you want Mademoiselle Lily Dubois?"

"Mais non! I insist-"

His body sleek and moist now on top of hers Lily wriggled to let his heavy cock fall between her open legs, shifting to tease the last drop of anticipation from his body, little pushes against him that made him bite his lip, not a single nerve that didn't scream for release and she whispered "yes". They hardly breathed as he slipped inside her, his mouth hovering over the honey of hers to feel every ridge and fold and degree of heat as he moved…"Jesus…Lily…" "Je suis à vous…" His hips grated against hers as he struggled to speak "And I am yours, God help you!" Lily pulled his head from her shoulder, burning dilated dark passion eyes searching his "I don't need God. Merde…religion and saving souls demain huh?" she smiled and with all the strngth she had pulled his mouth and his beautiful body to hers

There may even have been a promise of the gas lamps being lit before Lily woke from another doze entangled in his limbs and the white cotton sheets, her sigh soft as he stirred, a hand curling instinctively round her waist to prevent her from moving too far from him.  
"Abberline we should go.." she was muttering against his skin with all the conviction of a cat settling down on the best rug in front of the fire, the taste of cream on its whiskers. He didn't even open his eyes, just nuzzled into neck, that mouth would be the death of her and now that he remembered what it was meant for, it seemed like she would indeed

"Or we could just send more of that breakfast"

Lily laughed, her body flushing at the thought of his teeth and her fingers and those little sweet pieces of pastry "it is more like cocktail hour Abberline!" And the room really did look like it had been taken over by wayward aristocrats- clothes strewn over the floor, silver trays of unfinished food and an empty bottle or two, the once pristine bed all tangled and twisted, and to cap it all a Faberge Egg that had rolled from his jacket.


End file.
